Concrete Jungle Where Dreams are Made
by snoozin81
Summary: Rachel postpones her dreams of Broadway in favor of a college education and a relationship with Noah.  She gains an unlikely friend along the way.


At her fathers' insistence she defers moving to New York and pursuing her dreams in favor of a college education. "Bunny, Broadway will still be there, this way if by some slim chance the world is blinded to your wealth of talents you'll have something to fall back on, something substantial."

She has her doubts, not about Broadway still being there, but about the world being able to miss her star potential (clearly she was meant for the spotlight and anyone who can't see that shouldn't be allowed to breathe air). Mostly she stays because of Noah—because OSU is closer to Lima than New York City and his brief stint in a Juvenile Detention Center junior year has kept him from graduating with the rest of their class. They've been steadily dating for awhile now and while she's secure in the fact that he's never cheated—_not even once_—she's not sure either of them is fully capable of sustaining a long distance relationship.

There's also the threat of Santana Lopez, who's slatted to attend OSU as well. Noah assures her they're just friends but she's never trusted the girl and she sees no reason why she should start now. She also has misgivings about attending the same learning institution with the girl who's tortured her since the third grade but Kurt insists that the OSU campus is big enough for the both of them and that they'll probably never even see each other.

She has her doubts about that too.

Noah helps her move into the dorms, carrying all of her boxes up the two flights of stairs while she begins to put things away. When he's done, he collapse onto one of the bare mattresses, a light sheen of sweat coating his brow and rests a hand on the inside of her knee.

"So when are we going to break this bitch in," he asks using his hips to bounce the springs as he smirks up at her, his hand moving up her inner thigh. "We could hang a sock on the door—let your new roomy know what's what."

She ignores his crude suggestion completely and holds up the two sets of curtains she'd packed for her room. "What do you think?" she asks.

"I think if you wanted decorating advice you should have had Kurt help you move, although I doubt he'd have been able to lug all your shit up those stairs."

It turns out her roommate is the one with the sock fetish. Six weeks into the semester and she spends more time studying in the hallway than in her actual room. She hasn't made any friends yet so there's no one she can confide in, or spend that time with. Instead she sits with her back against the wall, humming along to the Broadway play list on her iPod.

"Just when I thought you couldn't get anymore pathetic."

She's not surprised to see Santana writing on one of the white board attached to a neighboring door—they've passed each other on campus many times before, each acting as if the other doesn't exist—but she is surprised when Santana rolls her eyes and says, "You know you've really got to stop letting people walk all over you."

She nods tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and ducking her head back towards her notes. She expects Santana to walk away, perhaps mumble something derogatory under her breath but the girl only lets out an irritated huff and grunts, "Well are you coming or what?"

She doesn't hesitate—that old part of her that has always wanted to fit in pushes her up off the floor and she quickly gathers her things before falling into step beside her old nemesis. "So, where are we going?"

"Does it matter?" Santana asks arching an eyebrow in her direction.

Honestly? _It doesn't_.

Two weeks later Santana walks into her dorm room without even knocking, twirling a multi-colored toe sock in one hand. "Ready for a little payback?" she asks flinging the sock at Rachel.

"I—I have a boyfriend," she stammers. "I mean—I know college is supposed to be a time for experimentation but—"

"Relax Hobbit; you're not my kind of flavor. We can totally get payback without _actually_making out." Santana explains as she jerks the sock back and slips it around the outside doorknob. And then with a smirk that reminds her so much of Noah, Santana adds, "Besides, you couldn't handle all of this hotness."

Rachel laughs, really laughs for the first time in weeks and when her roommate knocks on the door Santana winks and lets out a loud guttural moan. "Oh yeah, baby, right there," she cries passionately and Rachel can feel the burn of embarrassment creeping up her neck.

By winter break they've managed to form a semi quasi friendship that she's not sure extends beyond campus. They both have plans to go home for the holidays so she decides to test the waters by offering Santana a ride, "I think it would be beneficial to the environment if we cut down on fuel emissions by carpooling back to Lima."

"You're not normal," Santana groans, but she shows up the next morning with her suitcase dragging behind her and a large, triple espresso pursed against her lips.

Noah breaks up with her in February—two days before Valentine's Day. His only explanation being, _it's not like we were going to work out anyway._

She's completely devastated so she texts Santana who shows up in less than fifteen minutes with a pint of Ben and Jerry's.

"I—I appreciate the gesture but I'm vegan. I can't eat that."

"No shit," Santana says, rolling her eyes, "the ice cream's for me. If I have to sit here and listen to you whine about Puckerman all night I'm going to need some encouragement."

She refuses to go home for the spring break because Lima's a small town and she knows she'll run into Puck—yes, she's no longer calling him Noah because if he wants to act like his alter ego than she'll treat him like jerk he's being. She uses exams as an excuse in order to make her fathers feel better—and herself, but Santana calls her on it. She hides out in the library in an attempt to avoid her new found friend, unfortunately that's the first place Santana looks.

"Get your pint sized ass back to your dorm and pack a bag because I refuse to let you sit here and mope."

"I'm not moping—I'm_ studying_ and it wouldn't hurt you to crack a book now and then either."

Santana scoffs loudly, drawing the attention of the library matron who frowns and shakes a warning finger in their direction. With a roll of her eyes Santana sits down next to Rachel and lowers her voice, "Look, Puckerman's emotionally stunted. I'm pretty sure it comes from daddy issues—that's what my therapist keeps telling me anyway. But did you ever stop to think that maybe he had good reasons to break up with you."

"Like I'm repulsive and unlovable?"

"Like he's a moron and he may not graduate again."

"Oh?" It's not what she's expecting. Of course she's known all along that Santana's still been in touch with Noah but she's never come right out and asked and Santana's been surprisingly sensitive about the whole thing—up until now.

"Yeah, apparently math class isn't as important as nap time in the nurse's office."

She assembles the glee club—the members that have come home, anyway and recruits the help of Mr. Schuster and Mrs. Pillsbury. When everyone's in place she storms into Noah's bedroom and tosses his math book at him.

"Five minutes, downstairs, no excuses!"

She walks out before he can question her and heads back downstairs to where everyone's waiting. She refuses to let him fail, refuses to let him throw away everything they've been working towards.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks latter when everyone else has gone.

She bites her lip and looks up at him through lowered lashes. "Because I love you," she practically whispers. It's the first time she's said those words to him and it doesn't seem like the most appropriate time but he's asked and she wants to be honest. She clears her throat and tries again. "Because I love you and I want you to succeed. All you have to do is try Noah. I want you to try."

"_I_ want you to leave," he says dropping his number two pencil into the crease of his math book and pushing the book away from him.

He's not looking at her and she thinks he owes her at least that much. "Noah," she says taking a hold of his arm in an attempt to gain his attention.

He pulls away, standing so quickly the dinning room chair he's been sitting in scrapes loudly against the hardwood floor, tilting precariously before righting itself. "Why are you here?" he snaps. "I didn't ask for your help. I didn't ask for any of this."

She's confused. She doesn't understand where this out burst is coming from or why he's pushing her away. She opens her mouth to protest, to ask what's really going on but nothing comes out.

"You don't belong here Rachel," he adds. "You never should have stayed."

She begins to gather her things. Her head's spinning and she feels sick to her stomach. He's being mean—this anger he's throwing at her is worse than any slushy facial or hurtful name he's ever called her. He's right she should never have come home.

She's about to leave, about to walk away and never look back when she feels his finger curl around her upper arm. He pulls her back against him and she looses all control. Her body shakes, shuddering under the overwhelming emotions that are raging inside of her. A sob escapes the back of her throat and she can feel the hot tears streaming down her cheeks. The only thing keeping her upright is his massive arms which have wound themselves around her midsection.

"You shouldn't have stayed—not for me," he says against her ear. "You should have gone to New York."

They're supposed to be studying for finals but her heart isn't in it (things are still unsettled with Noah) and Santana keeps getting distracted by her finger nails (she's currently applying a new layer of bright red polish).

"He's right you know." Santana says as she inspects the nail she's just finished. "You've got talent coming out of your ass and you're just wasting it here."

"That's not true." She replies defensively. "I was the lead in the drama clubs rendition of Rent and show choir is keeping my vocal cords nice and warm."

"And that's enough for you?"

It's a rhetorical question because Santana already knows the answer. It's not enough. As much as she's always loved glee club, loved performing at competitions, her dreams have always been bigger.

She attends Noah's graduation—sits between Santana and his mother because the two have never gotten a long. She claps the loudest when he crosses the stage and takes the rolled up piece of paper that Principle Figgins offers him. She's so proud.

After the ceremony, after the congratulations and the pictures she loads her suite case into the back of Noah's pickup truck, climbs in beside him, and heads for her dreams in New York City.


End file.
